Before Boston, I never knew what it was like to live like that, like the animals I'd used to see back in Texas. I remember them when I'd visit my uncle's farm as a kid. He'd herd them all into little pens, all the pigs and chickens and whatever else he had, and I swear there was never a moment of quiet for miles because of it.

When my uncle'd let me hold a bit of animal feed over the pens, all the loud little things would come over as they tried to get to it before each other. There'd always be one or two poor saps who didn't make it in time; maybe they were too busy wallowing in mud or checking their feathers. Maybe they just weren't so lucky.

I heard the word "luck" thrown around a lot those days, especially when some guy was talking about me. And I guess there is some truth to it. How the hell Tommy and I made it all the way to Boston, how I even managed to keep myself walking after everything, you could say luck had something do with it. I can't argue with that. But there were so many times…so many god damn times…where everything "lucky" that happened to me just made life harder.

It was like you just had to go on, 'cause all those Infected in the forest didn't see you, and you actually made it to the rescue plane right before the swarm set in. All those lucky moments made me keep moving, but a part of me was still stuck in Texas for so long that I thought I'd never really get it back. Hell, maybe I've just forced myself to forget it ever existed, and that part of me, that part of Joel, is still in Austin with her.

But even if that Joel was there, most of me went with Tommy to Boston. If I could do anything at all, it was help my baby brother. It wasn't the time to give up…I remember almost turning my gun on myself after Tommy found us back in Texas, and I was holding her little limp body so close, begging and crying, but after I looked up and saw that fear in Tommy's eyes I knew I had to go. I needed to fight for something, and for the longest time since then, it was Tommy.

So when we finally made it to the quarantine zone, after months of fighting for our lives to get there, I tried to make due with what we had. I did some small carpenter work with Tommy for a while, and the military gave us enough ration tickets so we wouldn't starve, but things were strained between us after that journey.

I remember when I left the house that one day, just as I was making my way out the door, I looked over and saw Tommy sleeping on the couch, tossing around like he was turning infected. He didn't sleep good anymore; wasn't as optimistic as he once was neither. But who could've been after what we'd seen.

Leaving the house that morning and seeing him like that made me start thinking about that "luck" crap again. You know, if it really was worth it or not, like I hadn't thought of that before. I pushed the thought out of my mind as I slammed the door shut behind me and made my way to the center of town. It was Ration's Day, and I didn't want to wait long in that damn line.

"Everyone, please remain in a single file line between the barriers. Cutting is prohibited. Saving spots is prohibited."

The soldier's voice came along with the sound of static through his megaphone; you could barely hear him over the sound of the that crowd. I looked at my watch. It was noon now, and I'd only been waiting maybe an hour or so.

"Single file!" The soldier shouted again as the crowd kept being the furthest thing from a single file line.

"Good luck with that," I muttered under my breath, feeling a moment of relief as I saw the people in front of me start moving again. I'd finally reached the ration stations; three booths where people could turn in their tickets. Inching my way forward, I got behind one of the booths where a woman was pleading to a very embarrassed looking tender.

"You have to take these, sir, please, they've only expired just last month-"

I could hear in her voice that the waterworks had just turned on. The guy at the counter kept going helplessly as his face turned red like a beet.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry but these tickets aren't good anymore. My boss will kill me if he finds out…I just can't…"

As the exchange went on, I looked down at the woman's legs, noticing the eyes of two skinny looking children staring up at me. They were clutching for dear life onto their mama's dress, damn near dead expressions on their tiny faces. I started looking around at the other booths as I tried to avoid their desperate gazes.

That's when I noticed her in the first booth; a woman with dark brown hair. I can't really say much else about my first impression because her looks weren't exactly what caught my attention. I watched dumbfounded as she kept pulling 'em out of her pockets; ticket after ticket, 10 of them, maybe more. The tender didn't even look the least bit surprised; actually seemed like he knew her.

When the woman finally got all her supplies sorted out, she easily picked up what looked like bags that weighed a ton and started on her way. The problem was the way out was in my direction, and I definitely didn't stop eyeballing her quick enough for her to not notice. As she pushed through the crowd of people, she stopped for a second when she got to me.

"Why don't you keep your eyes to yourself, big guy," She said without giving me a glance. If I hadn't been paying attention I might have missed it. Just as soon as she spoke, I felt her wedge her way past me with a little too much force for my liking, then she was gone. Lost in the rest of the herd forever, or so I'd hoped.

"Mom! Mom, look!"

The exclamations of the kids in front of me brought me back to what I was doing. Their mama was still there, crying it up for the ration man while simultaneously trying to calm down the little rascals. She pat their heads without turning to look back at them.

"Mom's busy, sweetie, please-"

"But look!"

She finally gave in, turning her worn, tear stained face to look down at her kids. Suddenly, her eyes widened and her mouth went ajar.

"Where did you…"

I turned my attention to the oldest kid, a boy maybe 10 years old. He was holding a can of what looked like beans or vegetables or whatever else they gave out as rations those days, while his little brother grasped a bottle of antibiotics, trying his very hardest to unscrew the child-proof cap.

"This lady dropped them right here!" The oldest boy exclaimed, gesturing towards the ground beside his feet. It was a small haul, no doubt, but the woman started getting teary-eyed again.

"Wow" was the only word she could muster. Wow was right. I knew it wasn't no happy accident that medicine and food showed up at her boy's feet. That dark-haired woman…what was her deal anyway, I remember thinking.

The soldier's exasperated voice came over that megaphone again. He could barely finish what he was saying before the crowd started rioting, parts of his announcement being cut off by the crowd's racket.

"Everyone please remain c-there were some difficulties getting the new rations here-a few more hours-you will get yours!"

The soldier looked over at his other comrades desperately as the people got louder and louder. They gestured for him to press the button on the megaphone, and he did, emitting a loud siren that still couldn't pale in comparison with the mob's angry shouts. Someone's shoe came lobbing out of the horde and hit the megaphone soldier straight in the jaw. It was going to be a long day.